


How To Change Your Name

by Mad_Lori



Series: How, Patrick [4]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: A Wild Brewer Cousin(s) Appear, Complicated feelings about Things, David is an Artist, Family Dynamics, Life Changes, M/M, Name Changes, Patrick and David Have a Healthy Marriage, Relationship insecurity, Stevie is perceptive, Supportive In-laws, YouTuber Patrick
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-04
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:29:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29846394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mad_Lori/pseuds/Mad_Lori
Summary: Patrick talks to his YouTube viewers about a major life decision he's made, but it's harder work talking to everyone else in his life about it, even his husband.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: How, Patrick [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2113596
Comments: 76
Kudos: 468





	How To Change Your Name

**Author's Note:**

> This installment of this series is a bit different in that it doesn't include the fan reactions I know y'all love. It just didn't fit with this story. I hope you enjoy it anyway.
> 
> Many deep thanks to my readers, petrodobreva, Januarium and dinnfameron, for much-valued guidance.

PATRICK: Hello! I’m Patrick, and today I’m going to tell you how to change your name. Now, please note that I live in Canada, so the regulations where you live may be different, but I have checked what the procedures are like in the States, and while they vary from state to state, they’re more or less the same. A Google search will help you find the correct procedures.

But there’s a lot more to it than just the forms and fees. Deciding to make this change is very personal, and having gone through it myself, I have some thoughts to share on how to make this decision.

Once you’re pretty sure about it, I recommend talking it out with a trusted friend who isn’t personally invested. That’s sometimes when things you haven’t thought of will come up…

* * *

“I need to talk to you about something,” Patrick said, a few minutes into the drive home from Elm Valley. It was a forty-five minute drive, and he and Stevie had been at a costume fitting for “Guys and Dolls” until almost ten. They were both tired, but he couldn’t pass up this chance at nearly an hour’s worth of private time with her.

“Oh God, what’s he done now?” she said, pulling her knees up.

“Nothing! Well...nothing that’s prompting me to say that, anyway.”

She snorted. “What, then?”

“I’m about 95% sure I want to change my last name.”

Her head turned quickly to look at him. He kept his eyes on the road. “Yeah? You said that on your channel but I didn’t know if you really meant it.”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Patrick Rose, huh?”

Hearing her say the name gave him a little shiver. He wasn’t 95% sure. He was 100% sure. “Yeah. That’s what I want my name to be.”

“And you’re asking me, what? How to tell David?”

“I mean, it won’t be a total surprise, after the livestream, but we haven’t talked about it since. I thought you might have some thoughts on how he’ll react.”

“Thoughts that you haven’t had? You’re married to the guy, I hope you know him better than I do.”

“I know him  _ differently _ than you do. There are things about him I know that you don’t, and that you know that I don’t. I’m just trying to keep from stepping on any land mines here.”

“Yeah, about that…” She trailed off, looking out the window.

“What?”

“So, here’s the thing. David has a bit of a guilt complex about having stolen your life from you.”

Patrick’s mouth fell open. “ _ What? _ ”

“Yeah. Maybe not so much that  _ he _ thinks he did, but that he’s afraid other people will think he did, and that’ll make you feel bad.”

“Is this the whole ‘he turned me gay’ bullshit?”

“In a way.”

“I was already gay, he just happened to be there.”

“You don’t have to convince  _ me, _ you know. It’s just that he has this...Leave it to Beaver image of your life before you moved here. The warm and loving parents, the big family gatherings, the school sports teams, the wholesome sweetheart, the house and the white picket fence, all that saccharine bullshit. And because of him, you left all that behind.”

“I left it behind before I ever met him. Because I was miserable.” He was choking up. “God, how can he not know that he  _ gave _ me my life? The one I wanted, the one that makes me happy? That none of that, uh, saccharine bullshit can hold a candle to my life with him?”

“He knows that, theoretically. But he can’t shake that picture of what you grew up having, because...well, it’s what he  _ didn’t  _ have. For him, his life with you now is like...the pinnacle. Something better than he could ever have imagined having. For you, he sees it as…”

“A downgrade?”

“That’s harsher than he’d put it. But yeah. Look, it’s not like he doesn’t know that you’re happy and that you love your life. He just can’t stop imagining that people think he’s keeping you from that picket-fence life, or whatever. That shit is hard way down there at the bottom in the dark corners.”

“And me taking his name would just be another step away from that.”

“Yep.” She was watching him carefully. “If you’re still Patrick Brewer, part of you is still in that life.”

He met her eyes briefly. “This is important for me to hear.”

“I hope it isn’t making you not want to do it.”

“Are you kidding? It makes me want to do it  _ more. _ ”

* * *

P: Once you’ve bounced your thoughts off a trusted person, it’s time to think about telling the people that your decision will affect. For me, that meant telling David.

D: [offscreen] You’d think, wouldn’t you?

P: [wearily] He is somewhat butthurt that this was ever a question.

[half of David’s face appears looking into the camera, extremely close up; we see only part of his forehead, nose and one eye - the camera pulls focus on him and Patrick goes blurry in the background]

D: Well, who else would you tell first that you were changing your last name BUT the person whose last name you are changing it to, I ask you?

P: You just dragged that sentence out to the back alley and strangled it to death.

D: You know what I mean!

[his face disappears offscreen again]

P: I  _ thought  _ about telling my parents first. [his eyes flick up to where David has obviously just made a face or a gesture of some kind] Just for a second! It was their name I was giving up!

[XCU of one-quarter of David’s face appears in the field of view again, staring into the camera at the viewers]

D: [quietly, conspiratorially] You are all on my side about this, aren’t you? One’s  _ husband _ should be the first to know about major life choices, in a general way?

P: Which is exactly the decision I came to, babe.

D: Shouldn’t even have been a decision, is what I’m saying. It’s a given!

[he vanishes again]

P: [harrumphs] Once I made that  _ decision, _ I had to figure out how to do it.

* * *

The studio in their house had been a surprise for David, one that Patrick had been equal parts proud and surprised that he’d managed to pull off. The cottage had come with a somewhat incongruous sunroom the previous owners had added on in the late 90s, and it had been sitting empty since they moved in, becoming a kind of staging area for random things that had no other place. Patrick had noticed David doing more and more sketching at the kitchen table, on the couch, or at the store, so during one of his days off, Patrick had swung into action with Stevie and Ronnie’s help. They cleared out the sunroom, put in a colorful carpet and some good lighting, and moved in some shelving, a desk, and a drawing table and easel. He’d Googled what supplies to get and had laid in some things he thought David would need. A set of art pencils, conte crayons, gum erasers, good sketch pads in all sizes, and charcoals. He’d made David close his eyes when he got home and had led him here, hoping he hadn’t overstepped. The look on David’s face when he saw the new space had erased all doubts.

Patrick had been working up his nerve for days when he finally decided it was time. He lurked in the studio doorway for a moment and watched him. David’s back was to him, his head bent over whatever he was working on, the task light overhead bathing him in an incandescent cone of warmth. “I can hear you lurking,” David suddenly said; the half-smile was audible in his voice.

“Sorry. You looked engrossed.” He came into the room and sat down on the stool next to David’s drafting table.

“Just doodling.” Patrick looked down at his paper. It was a series of overlapping depictions of vaguely floral shapes that danced across the page. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to show you the mock-up of the new business cards,” he said, feeling a nervous flutter in his belly.

David looked up. “Okay, lemme see.” Patrick handed him the sample card he’d printed out. David peered at it for a moment. “I don’t get it, it looks the same as the old…” He sucked in a breath, and Patrick knew that he’d seen the change.

**ROSE APOTHECARY**

**_One of a kind, locally sourced_ **

**David & Patrick Rose, Proprietors**

David just stared at in silence for a moment. Patrick watched his face go through a series of emotions before finally landing somewhere in the vicinity of “skeptical.” He looked up. “This...are you serious?”

“Yes. I want to do it.”

“Change your name.”

“Yes.”

“To Rose.”

“Yes.” 

David swallowed hard, then very calmly handed the mock-up back to him. Patrick took it, watching him. For a moment, David kept it together, then his features crumpled and he covered his face with both hands. His shoulders shook and a gaspy little sob escaped from behind his fingers.

Patrick rolled his stool forward and pulled David to him, wrapping his arms around his torso. He felt David’s hands clutch at his shoulders. “I mean it, sweetheart,” he whispered, deploying a rarely-used endearment. “We are a family. I’d like us to have a family name.”

“How? Why? Nobody’s ever wanted to  _ become _ a Rose,” David said, shakily. “It’s something you’re born with and then can’t get rid of.”

“What about your mom? She wanted to, right?”

“That’s different. She hated her childhood, hates her family. You love yours.” David drew back and put his hands on Patrick’s face. “You’re really sure? You really want this?”

“I want it more than anything.”

David swiped at his eyes. “I just can’t...I don’t know how I feel right now.”

“Try to tell me.”

He nodded. “It’s like...you’re disappearing. I keep stealing parts of you. I was the first man you ever slept with, I sucked you into my business, I kept you in my town, now I’m taking your name away from you…”

“David. Listen to me,” he said, grasping his hands, and silently thanking Stevie’s insight for preparing him for this reaction. “Everything you just said? You didn’t  _ take  _ things from me, you gave things  _ to _ me. You  _ gave _ me my first experience with a man, you  _ gave _ me a business and a home and a partner. Those were choices that I made, because I wanted to. I  _ wanted _ to invest in the store, I  _ wanted _ to stay here, and God knows I wanted you, so badly. You didn’t bewitch me, I’m a grown man, I can make my own decisions.”

“I know, but…”

“No, there are no buts. I don’t know what idea you have about my life before I moved here, but the truth is that I never made a single proactive decision for myself, ever. I went along with what was expected. I did what was easiest. I took the path of least resistance, because it was the one that wouldn’t  _ bother _ anyone, never mind if it would make me happy. I did that shit for years, David, until it nearly broke me. The first time I ever did something because it was right for  _ me _ was when I left Rachel, and left town, and ran away. It was terrifying, but I did it, and it freed me. And once I’d tasted that freedom, I wanted it all the time. So I kept making decisions that were right, even if they weren’t easy. But this? This is easy.”

David smiled a little, his cheeks wet. “I don’t have the words, Patrick. For you to be a Rose...I can’t describe it. I’d be so proud to share that with you.” He chuckled a little. “Not to go all Mulan on you, but you would bring honor to the family name. Certainly way more than the rest of us do.”

He smiled. “Good.” He leaned in and kissed him. David held him there for a few beats longer, his hands on Patrick’s face. “You know what else?” Patrick said, pulling back. “I’ve really never really liked the name Brewer all that much. It just sounds...I dunno, mealy.”

“Is that what you’re going to tell your parents?” 

“Probably not. But I don’t know what I  _ am _ going to tell them. Will you help me figure that out?”

David took a deep breath and wiped his face. “Okay. Let’s talk about it.”

* * *

_ “Are you sure you don’t want me to come with you?” _

_ “No, I think this is best. I want it to be very clear that this is coming from me, and only me. Having you there might…” _

_ “Muddy the waters?” _

_ “Something like that.” _

_ “Okay, if you’re sure. I’ll miss seeing your parents.” _

_ “They’ll probably be more upset that I didn’t bring you than about my name change.” _

_ “Well...good luck. Call me after.” _

_ “I will. I love you.” _

_ “I love you too, honey. Drive safe.” _

The upside of having a four-hour drive to his hometown was that he had plenty of time to practice what he planned to say, although after a while, he was just confusing himself and over-analyzing every word. He put on one of David’s 80’s Divas playlists and sang along to Debbie Harry and Pat Benatar.

_ Hmm. “We Belong” is a nice song. Be good for an acoustic cover for the next open mic night. _

He shut off the music and drove the rest of the way in silence, humming to himself and composing guitar chords in his head.

_ Whatever we deny or embrace, for worse or for better, _

_ We belong, we belong together. _

When he arrived, he sat in the driveway for a moment, breathing deeply and fiddling with his wedding ring. He couldn’t put it off any more when his mother spotted him and waved through the window. He picked up his duffel and headed inside.

“Oh, sweetheart!” his mother exclaimed, embracing him. “David didn’t come with you?”

“No, not this time,” he said. He almost laughed at how dramatically his mother’s face fell.

“But I baked his favorite pie! You’ll have to take it home with you,” she said. 

Clint emerged from the den to hug him. “Good to see you, son,” he said, slapping his back. “Flying solo this trip, huh?”

“David sends his love. And this,” he said, pulling out a bag of his mother’s favorite products from the shop.

“Ooooh good, I’m almost out of that hand lotion,” she said.

“There’s a few new things in there. We just signed a vendor who makes this solid stick perfume? It’s really nice, he thought you’d like to try it.”

“I can’t wait. Oh, sweetie, I hope it’s okay, but when they heard you were going to be in town, Joan and Stu planned a family barbecue tomorrow.”

He’d expected something like this. “Sounds fun.” And convenient. He could tell some other family members and know that it would get around to the rest.

“Can I get you a beer?” his father said, as they retreated into the den, their default hangout room.

“Sure.” He sat down in “his” chair, his mother resuming her spot on the couch and picking up her crossword. His father handed him a bottle and sat down in his own couch spot. “Listen...there’s something I need to talk to you about.”

They both looked up, their faces going serious. “Is everything okay?” his mother said, her brow furrowing.

“Yes, everything’s fine.”

“The store’s not in trouble?” his dad said.

“No, the store’s doing great. Better than ever. No, this is...personal. And it’s not about me and David, we’re great. Better than great.” He saw them both relax. “I’ve made a decision, and I wanted you both to know before I start the process.”

They both looked supremely confused now. “What’s going on?” his mother asked.

He took a breath. Every carefully worded ramp-up speech he’d rehearsed in the car went out the window, and he just came out with it. “I’ve decided to take David’s name. I’ll be changing my last name to Rose.”

Judging by their faces, that had been the absolute last thing his parents were expecting. They both blinked and stared for a moment. “Oh,” his mother said. “Well...that’s...a big decision, dear.”

“I know. I’ve given it a lot of thought. This is what I want. I hope it isn’t upsetting to you, but if it is, we can talk about that.”

“I wouldn’t say it’s upsetting,” she said. “It’s...unexpected?”

“Well, sure. Society doesn’t exactly prepare parents for the idea that their  _ son _ might change his last name upon marriage.”

“No, it sure doesn’t,” she said, laughing a little.

Patrick looked over at his father. “Dad? Wanna jump in, here?”

“I’m...I don’t know quite how I’m feeling,” he said, looking perplexed.

“Okay,” Patrick said, trying to sound encouraging and calm while his heart hammered in his chest.

“I’m happy for you, because the fact that you want to do this says something about your marriage. And I always wanted that kind of relationship for you. But...there’s this feeling of...rejection? And I know that’s not what you mean, and not what you feel, but I need to be honest with you, and I can’t deny that it’s there.”

“I thought you might feel that way, and I’m glad you’re being honest about how you feel. I hope you both know this, but this is not about you, or my upbringing, or my family. I will always be a Brewer. I will alway be your son. This isn’t about me rejecting you, it’s about me, and wanting to be identified by who I am now. This is something I want to share with my husband.”

“Did you ever talk about him taking  _ your _ name?” his mother asked. The question didn’t sound loaded or accusatory, just curious.

“We did. That wasn’t something that had ever occurred to him, but when I told him I wanted to take his, he offered. He loved the idea of us sharing a name, but didn’t think it necessarily had to be  _ his _ name. I just...it was me who wanted to change, so it made sense.” He thought for a moment. “I don’t want to violate David’s privacy, but me wanting this, wanting to be a Rose, has meaning for him. A sense of security and belonging that I’ve always had that he hasn’t. I want to give that to him.”

His mother’s eyes were wet. “That poor boy. I know he didn’t always have an easy time.”

“It’s fair to say that he  _ never _ had an easy time. It just makes me want to find any way I possibly can to make him feel safe and loved. But in the end, this isn’t about him. This is about who  _ I _ want to be, and how I want the world to know me.” He hesitated. “Also - and this is purely aesthetic - I just like the name Rose. It’s our business name. I think it sounds nice. I hope that doesn’t seem silly.”

“Not at all,” she said. “I was thrilled to give up McCeachran. It was so awkward and nobody could ever pronounce it or spell it.”

His father put a hand on his arm. “You know we support you no matter what, Patrick. It just might take a bit of getting used to.”

“It’s like...an instinct,” his mother said. “There’s the way we want to feel about things and then there’s that unconscious response.”

“I know. I have that, too. I’ve had a lot of time to work through that, so you both should take as much time as you need. I never thought you wouldn’t have complicated feelings about this. But I also never thought you wouldn’t support me, or understand my decision.”

“We do,” his father said. “You’re an adult, son, and you should do what will make you happy.”

“Just so you know, I’m not ditching Brewer entirely. I plan to make it my new middle name.”

They both smiled on hearing this. “Oh, that’s nice that you’ll still have it in some form,” his mother said.

Patrick grinned. “I’m waiting for the jokes about my new initials being PBR.”

* * *

“...and then she actually  _ said _ that we should try and start a Twitter hashtag! What is this, 2013? I tried to explain that…”

“Alexis.”

“I mean, seriously, David, this is what I’m dealing with here. It’s like the Dark Ages or something.”

“Alexis!”

“What?” she said, her eyes snapping up.

“Can I talk for once?”

“Like, of course! Haven’t you been talking?”

“Not for the last eighteen minutes, no.”

“Ugghhh, I’m sorry, I’m just venting. You talk now.”

“So I have some news.”

Her eyes got big. “You’re pregnant.”

He nodded. “Yes, Alexis. I’m pregnant.”

“Just tell me.”

He sighed. “Patrick wants to change his last name to Rose.”

She gasped. “Ohmygod, David! That is so sweet!”

“I couldn’t believe it at first. But he really wants that. He wants us to share a name.” David felt his eyes welling up again and blinked. “I’m starting to think he might actually like me,” he said, his smile creeping into his cheek.

“Well, I could have told you that the first time I met him.”

“I don’t…” He sighed. “Sometimes I feel like I’m getting a karmic payback for twenty years of romantic disaster. But mostly I just wait for him to wake up and realize what he’s gotten himself into.”

Alexis’s face went serious. “He knows, David. And he is all in for all that. All of you, and us, and everything.”

“Yeah. I know. Well, he drove up to his parents’ house to tell them about the name change. I hope it goes well.”

“It will. His parents are sweethearts.”

“Yeah, but last names can be a  _ thing _ for dads.”

“You could always pick a new name. Or go back to our original name.”

“Rosenbaum? No thanks. Great-great-granddad had the right idea when he chopped it.” His phone buzzed and a notification popped up. “Alexis? I gotta go, Patrick’s calling.”

“Okay, talk to you later.” She virtual-booped him and their call ended. 

David swiped on the notification. “Hey! Did you tell them?”

“Yes. It went fine. They have a few complicated feelings…”

“That’s understandable.”

“Yeah, that’s what I said. But they’re fine. They support me and understand why I want to do it.”

“Well. That’s a relief. I was just telling Alexis about it.”

“What’d she say?”

“That you’re only doing it so you can murder me and take the store.”

“Hilarious.”

“Okay, she said you’re sweet and wonderful and I do not deserve you.”

“She did not say that.”

“Well, that last part might have been me talking.”

“David...you can absolutely say no to this, but my aunt and uncle are having a family barbecue tomorrow and I’d really love it if you could be here to meet the rest of my family. I know it’s a big ask, but is there any way you can drive up here tonight?”

David glanced at the clock. Just after six. “Yeah, I can do that. I’ll go over to the motel and get the Lincoln.” Stevie kept Johnny’s old car at the motel for general staff use, mostly because it couldn’t fit in the cottage’s driveway along with Patrick’s car.

Patrick made a disgruntled noise. “I don’t like you driving four hours in that thing. Can’t you borrow Stevie’s car?”

“She’s in Sudbury. The Lincoln is fine. It breaks down less than her old jalopy. I’ll get some clothes together and be on the road within the hour.” 

He heard Patrick sigh, the relief in it audible even over the phone. It wasn’t just the barbecue. He was feeling vulnerable and needed David’s support. In this situation, there was nothing David wouldn’t have done to get himself to his Patrick’s side. “Thank you. I know it’s not fun to drive up here at night.”

“I have a podcast to listen to, it’ll be fine.”

“I really appreciate this, David.” His voice was so full of warmth and love that David had to hold the phone away from his ear for a second.

“There’s not much I wouldn’t do for you, you know,” he finally murmured.

“I’ll wait up for you. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, honey. See you soon.”

They hung up. David just stood there for a moment, basking, then he roused himself out of his reverie and bolted up the stairs.

* * *

His parents insisted on waiting for David with him, so they sat up watching the Leafs lose to the Penguins, ate the addictive marinated pretzels his mom always laid in when company was expected, and laughed together like they hadn’t in who knew how long. 

Early in the evening, Patrick startled himself with the realization that he hadn’t spent any significant time alone with his parents since before he’d moved away to Schitt’s Creek. Their two visits to his home there had been filled with gatherings and introductions and wedding preparations and David and the Roses. Since his marriage, he hadn’t seen his parents without David. This wasn’t a bad thing, but David was a kind of buffer. He drew everyone’s focus, always did, and it let Patrick avoid the question of whether or not his relationship with his parents was indeed the same, or if his whirlwind few years of abruptly-moving-coming out-getting-engaged-getting-married had affected it.

It had not. This felt so comfortable, so natural, that he almost wondered what he’d been so worried about. In fact, it was better. He wasn’t constantly policing himself, making sure he was performing contentment for them and for Rachel, saying and doing the Right Things, being the Right Kind of Son. He was just...being himself. 

“When do you think he’ll get here?” his mother asked.

“Hmm. Well, I called at 6. It’s a four-hour drive. It’ll take him at least an hour to curate his weekend wardrobe and pack, plus he’ll stop and get a coffee and snacks for the road. He’ll probably be on the road around 7. He’ll have to make at least one bathroom stop so...between eleven and midnight?”

His parents exchanged a glance.

“What?” Patrick said.

“It’s just...you know him so well. It’s fun to see.”

“He’s a creature of habit; he’s easy to know. David likes routine and order.”

“I’ve noticed that he’s very tidy.”

“Yes, he is. Our division of household labor pretty much fell into place. I haven’t had to clean a thing or do a load of laundry since I’ve lived with him. He hasn’t had to cook, buy groceries or spare a thought to personal finance.”

“But what about the yardwork?” his father teased.

“Oddly, we’ve been able to share that. I like mowing, he likes gardening. He never had anywhere he could plant flowers or choose shrubbery and he threw himself into it after we moved in. He has a five-year plan and a calendar of blooming dates for ‘maximum aesthetic continuity,’” Patrick said, making air quotes. His parents chuckled. “We take care of each other,” he said, quietly, feeling a little emotional as he pictured David rushing to get into the car to get here, just because Patrick had asked him to.

“That’s what marriage is,” his mother said, smiling.

He glanced at the clock, suddenly desperate to get his arms around his husband. It was 10:40. “I’m going to get another beer. Dad?”

“No, thanks, I’m good.”

He was halfway across the living room when headlights splashed across the front window. His mom sat up a little. “Is that him?”

Patrick went to the window, then grinned. “Yep. He must have really hurried.” He went to the front door and out into the yard, meeting David just as he got out of the car. “Hi,” he breathed, coming into his arms with a grateful sigh.

“Hi,” David said, enfolding Patrick in a warm, sure embrace, Patrick’s safest spot in the world. He tucked his face into David’s neck.

“Thanks for coming,” he murmured.

“Of course.” David pulled back and kissed him. “I mean, it was a real toss-up between takeout in front of a Property Brothers marathon and spending time with my husband, who I love and adore even though he said I shouldn’t come and then changed his mind.”

“Something you have never done in your life, ever,” Patrick deadpanned, reaching into the car to retrieve David’s bag. He shut the car door then pulled David close again, leaning in to put another slow kiss on his lips. “I missed you,” he murmured against his mouth.

“You’ve only been gone since this morning.”

“David, sometimes I miss you when you get up from the couch to get snacks.” David visibly melted at this, and Patrick felt that little thrill of triumph he always did when he managed to say something that got through David’s still-robust protective shell.

They walked into the house, where his mother practically pounced on David, enveloping him in a tight hug. Patrick sensed David relaxing a little; he had probably been a little wary of his welcome given that - in his mind - he was pulling their son a little further away from them. “Oh, sweetheart, I’m so glad you came up,” his mother was murmuring.

David hugged her back. “Me, too.” He pulled back, smiling, to accept another hug from Patrick’s dad. 

“Good to see you, son,” he said.

David nodded, a bit manically. “You too, Clint.”

“You must be tired and hungry, do you want something to eat? I made that custard pie you like.”

His eyes lit up. “Pie?”

Which was how they all ended up around the kitchen table, eating their way through the custard pie, not even bothering with plates, just stabbing their forks right into the pie plate. “Oh, Marcy, you could sell these,” David said, humming with pleasure. He sat up straighter. “Hey! You could sell these! At the store!”

Marcy laughed, about to demur. “No, she can’t, David,” Patrick said. “Vendors have to have a licensed kitchen, as you very well know.”

David shrugged. “More for me.” He took another massive bite. Patrick was forever amused by how David’s overall fastidiousness contrasted with his habit of consuming food  _ con brio _ .

Patrick saw his parents exchange a glance, then his mom put her hand on David’s arm. “Patrick told us about the change he’s making,” she said, gently.

David swallowed his bite and looked at them, hesitant. “I know. I hope...it’s not upsetting for you.”

“No. It’s surprising, yes. That’s not something we were prepared for.”

“Of course not, why would you be?”

“But…” She smiled. “That’s only right, isn’t it? When your child gets married, that’s their family. Patrick will always be our son, but he’s yours first, now. And if this is how he wants to express that, then we support his choice.”

“I just didn’t want you to think I’d asked him to do that,” David said.

“No, he made it clear this is coming from him. But even if you had asked him, it would still be his choice.”

“And it is. My choice, I mean,” Patrick said. He reached out and took David’s hand on the tabletop. David smiled at him, his eyes full of love. “So that’s settled, then. I’ll start the paperwork on Monday.”

* * *

PATRICK: Telling the most important people in your life is, in some ways, easier. You sit them down and have a conversation, or a phone call, and tell them. But getting the word out to everyone else? Awkward. How do you do it? Make a list?

DAVID: [offscreen] If you don’t think he had a list, you must be new here.

P: It seemed kind of weird to randomly call up people and say hey, guess what. Do you send out announcements?

D: [head and upper body pop into the frame, facing the camera] I told him that formal announcements are for major life events. For a change like this, a tasteful small card is appropriate, like a change-of-address card. But noooo, he didn’t want to do that.

P: You know, you can just do this video with me, you don’t have to keep popping in uninvited like Statler and Waldorf.

D: No, this is your thing, don’t let me interrupt. [he tosses his hands up with a ‘lord have mercy’ eye roll and retreats off-camera]

P: For my situation, I had three groups of people I felt ought to be informed: David’s family, our friends in town, and my own extended family. Luckily, the circumstances worked out well to let us take care of the first and third of these on the same weekend.

* * *

Once the pie was consumed and they’d bid his parents goodnight, Patrick got out his laptop. “No time like the present.” They set up the laptop on the kitchen table. “You texted them?”

“Yeah, Dad said they’d both be home and waiting for our call.” He rubbed Patrick’s upper arm. “Are you nervous?”

“A little? Seems silly, but...yeah, a bit.”

“My dad might cry, just be prepared.”

“You think?” Patrick said, alarmed.

“Honey,” David said, gently. “I cried, too. We get emotional when someone actually  _ chooses _ us.” Patrick didn’t know what to say to that. “Oh dear, now you look like  _ you _ might cry.”

“No, I just...that breaks my heart a little.”

“Come on, let’s get this over with.” He initiated the call. Very quickly, Johnny and Moira appeared on the laptop screen.

“David!” Johnny exclaimed, beaming. “And Patrick! So glad to see you, boys.”

“David, my goodness, whereupon have you displaced your skin care? Your under-eye equipage is looking neglected.”

“Thanks for noticing, Mom,” David said, wearily. “I had a long day.”

“It’s so late there, what couldn’t wait?” Johnny asked.

“Well, Patrick’s got something to tell you,” David said, smiling, sliding his arm around Patrick’s shoulders.

Moira gasped theatrically and clutched Johnny’s arm. “You’re leaving him, aren’t you? Leaving our darling David bereft and adrift! I knew it was too good to last! We Roses are a lugubrious confabulation of endless strife, best you release yourself now, dear Patrick!” she wailed.

“Moira!” Johnny exclaimed, just as David said “Mother!” in an aggrieved tone, trying to keep it down for the sake of his parents sleeping upstairs.

“I’m not leaving him, Mrs. Rose,” he said, making calm-down hand gestures.

“You think I’d be sitting here smiling with one arm around him if he’d just abandoned me?” David said, that shrill talking-to-his-mother note entering his voice.

Patrick covered David’s hand on his arm with his own. “We’re just fine, everything’s going great,” he said, deploying his reassuring-Moira voice, a new but frequently-used addition to his vocal repertoire. “But I wanted to tell you both that I’m going to file paperwork this week to change my last name to Rose.”

That seemed to strike both of them voiceless with shock. Moira, in particular, looked undone by this news. “Patrick!” she exclaimed. “You would really wish to...to...co-nomenclate yourself with us?”

He smiled. “I can’t wait to be a Rose.”

“Son, you already are,” Johnny said, sounding a little gravelly.

Moira was smiling, some of her usual bluster and theatrics falling away, as tended to happen when she was at her most vulnerable. “We are already honored to have you in our family, my dear Patrick,” she said. “If this is what you want then we’re over the moon.” She frowned, as if a sudden thought disturbed her. “David has not pressured you into this, has he? He can be quite tenacious when swarms of bees invade his bonnet!”

“Swarms of bees? Really?”

“No, Mrs. Rose, he didn’t know I was planning on doing it until a few days ago.”

The Roses exchanged a glance. “Dear Patrick, I think the time has long passed that you should still be calling me Mrs. Rose,” Moira said. “If we are to share monogramming privileges then you should call us Moira and John.” She harrumphed a bit. “Or even perhaps, Mom and Dad? As David does?”

Patrick’s stomach clenched a bit. He felt David’s hand tighten on his bicep but he didn’t dare look at him. “Is that what you want?”

Johnny smiled. “It’s what’s true, isn’t it?”

“I hope so. Well...okay.”

Moira was craning her head around, looking past their heads. “What tidy bourgeois kitchen is this? I don’t recall those decorative poultry at the cottage, surely David wouldn’t permit such frippery amidst his curated decor.”

“We’re at my parents’ house. I’ve just told them the news tonight.”

“And...they were amenable to your choice?”

“They were surprised, but they understand.”

“Of course they do. I’d expect no less from Clint and Marcy,” Johnny said, pronouncing their names as he always did, as if they were lifelong friends instead of people who’d met twice under less-than-relaxed circumstances.

“We’re going to a family barbecue tomorrow. A lot of my family haven’t met David yet, so this’ll be a good chance to do that, and to spread the word about my name change.”

“And this gives you some pause?” Moira said.

“Not really, it’s just...a lot to share all at once.”

“Of course. Well, your lovely family may welcome David all they like but we may now claim you for our own as well, mayn’t we, John?”

Johnny nodded, looking sincerely through the screen at them. “We’re always here for you. Both of you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” David said, quietly. “We should sign off. It’s late here and we have an alarmingly early start.”

“Your news was a most appreciated bright spot in our evening,” Moira said. “All our love to both of you.”

They waved goodbye and disconnected the call. Patrick took a breath and let it out. “Well, that went well.”

“Apart from my mother thinking that you’re two seconds from fleeing our marriage.”

* * *

Because the Brewers were the sort of people who had to be early to be early, they were the first to arrive at the family barbecue apart from the hosts, and even then only half of them, as Stu had run to the store for more paper plates and some bags of ice. “Patrick!” Aunt Joan exclaimed, coming forward to embrace him. He awkwardly juggled the cooler he was carrying and hugged her back one-armed.

“Hi Joan,” he said.

“And David, I’m so glad you could make it!” she said, hugging him too around the large bowl of glorified rice he was holding. Joan and Stu had been at the wedding, so they’d already met David. He and Joan had bonded over the catering.

“Me too,” he said. “Look at this setup, it’s amazing!”

He wasn’t wrong. Joan and Stu went all out. They had a comfortable one-story ranch on a hill with an exposed basement, and the house backed on to a large wooded area with a scenic brook running through it. Stu had spent most of the last thirty years turning the large backyard into an outdoor-living paradise, and for parties they always went all out with the fairy lights, torches, food spreads and multiple seating clusters (“keeps everyone from clumping together in a huddle,” Stu said, as if the dreaded “clumping” were a party foul to be avoided at all costs).

“What a gorgeous yard!” David exclaimed, and Patrick could tell that he was genuinely impressed.

“Here, let me take that, honey,” Joan said, rescuing the glorified rice. Clint and Marcy had just gone right to the food area to deposit their contributions.

“Do you need more buns, Joan?” Marcy asked her sister.

“No, I’ve got more inside. It’s all under control, Marce.”

“All right! I’m just checking!”

Patrick left them to their party-prep one-upmanship and joined David on the edge of the wooden deck. “Nice, huh?” he said, quietly.

“This is amazing. It’s like a resort. From the street, you’d never know this was all back here.”

“We were here a lot when I was growing up.”

“Which cousins are their kids, again?”

“Katie is two years older than me, Josh is my age, and Link is three years younger.”

“Is Josh the one you wanted as your best man?”

“Yeah, but he was overseas for work. We were super close growing up, he’s like a brother to me.”

“I can’t wait to meet him.”

“He’ll be here today, along with the rest of the motley crew.” David nodded and folded his arms over his chest. Patrick rubbed his back. “Hey. This is a low-stakes day, okay? Everyone here knows who you are and has heard all about you. I’m going to tell Joan and Stu, and Josh, and probably my grandmother. I won’t need to do more than that, word will get around.”

“Shall we track its progress by the number of people giving me the side-eye?”

“This isn’t the first time something like this has happened. My cousin Gary and his wife decided not to use either of their last names. They took the letters from each one and made a new name.”

David’s eyebrows went up. “That’s...an impressively progressive idea.”

“I always thought it was cool. Nobody had a problem with that, I can’t imagine they’ll have one with us.”

“Should we have considered that option?” David’s face scrunched up.

“You’re thinking of combinations, aren’t you?”

“I can’t help it!”

“Well, I’m not super enthused about becoming the Browsers, or something.”

David laughed. “Ew.”

“Let’s just stick with Rose. You never have to spell that one out for people on the phone.”

He snorted. “You’d be surprised.” He leaned in and kissed Patrick’s temple. “I’m gonna go find your mom, attempt to make myself useful.”

“You mean, maintain proximity to the food?”

“It’s like you know me.” He strode off towards the pergola where the food tables were.

Stu got back right then so Patrick helped him with the ice, and then his cousin Marnie and her husband and toddler son arrived, and right on their heels Marnie’s sister Laura, and then the floodgates opened. Within ten minutes, the backyard was bustling. Both his parents had local family, and his hordes of cousins were from both sides; by some miracle most everyone got along with each other. 

Patrick had braced himself to be the star attraction today, given that Joan and Stu had planned the barbecue for his visit; this was practically his de facto wedding reception with most of these people. He and David had made a plan for the day, as they did for most things.

“Do you really need to drag me around to every single person and introduce me?” David had murmured, while they were tucked up together in bed the night before.

“That sounds...exhausting.”

“We should make a plan. We’ll both be balls of anxiety if we don’t make a plan.”

“Something tells me you already have a plan.”

“Well...what if we just sort of, let it happen organically? You shouldn’t have to spend the first hour of this barbecue parading me around, you haven’t seen a lot of these people in a long time.”

“I know. I’m expecting to be roasted to hell and back for disappearing for three years and then reappearing having opened a store and married a man.”

“You can tell them you ran away to join the gay mafia,” David joked.

Patrick snorted. “I might steal that, actually.”

“All the more reason for you to greet them all on your own, without me lurking around. You know I’m going to park my ass by the food and your mom will be right there with me. She and your dad can introduce me to anyone who happens along. And you come get me when you want me to meet someone important.”

Patrick had smiled against his hair. “That sounds like a logical, low-stress plan.”

“The best kind.”

As it turned out, it worked a treat. Patrick got to greet his much-missed extended family, was hugged and handshaked (and yes, roasted) to within an inch of his life, all of which was made a lot easier by not having to shoehorn in the introduction every time. He checked in with David from across the yard periodically, meeting his eyes for a quick “Okay? Okay,” head-nod exchange, and smile when he overheard his mother say “Oh, this is David, Patrick’s husband.”

Finally, he spotted Josh arriving, carrying a wine tote and a bag that probably contained store-bought cookies. He was scanning the bustling backyard, probably looking for Patrick. When his eyes snagged on him, his face lit up and he grinned widely.

Patrick pushed through the throng as Josh handed his items to his sister Katie, who had appeared at his side. “Patrick!” he exclaimed. Patrick allowed himself to be subjected to one of Josh’s hugs - no performative back-slapping man-hugs for Josh, no, he wrapped you up like he was conserving heat in a blizzard.

“Good to see you, man,” Patrick said. Josh was a big bear of a man, six foot four and built like a Highlander at a caber-toss competition. 

“You too, Jesus Christ,” Josh said, pulling back. “You look so good!”

“You too!”

“I am so sorry I couldn’t make it back for your wedding, man,” he said, going sincere. “Fucking power plant contracts in Malaysia.”

“I understand. It was kind of short notice.”

“Fuck yeah, it was. A two month engagement, who does that?”

“There were reasons.”

“So where is he, did you bring him?” Josh said, looking around as if David might be hiding behind Patrick.

“Yep, he’s…” Patrick looked over his shoulder. “That’s him at the food table with my mom, in the black sweater with the heart on it.”

Josh’s eyebrows went up. “ _ That’s _ your husband?”

“Yep.”

He whistled a bit. “Damn. Testing above your grade level, aren’t you? How’d a Jake-from-State-Farm-looking guy like you land a dude like  _ that? _ ”

Patrick grinned, absurdly pleased and proud. It didn’t surprise him when people thought David was good-looking; empirically, he was (although he doubted that many shared his definitely correct and not at all biased opinion that no more beautiful person existed on earth than David Rose). But hearing people say things like that twigged a bit of his residual dorky-kid insecurity that a Beautiful Person had chosen  _ him. _ “It was my mad grant-writing skills,” he deadpanned. “Gets ‘em every time.”

“You must be a good lay,” Josh teased him, elbowing his side.

“Well, you’d have to ask him, but uh...please don’t do that.” His grin was growing wider, the happy warmth of Josh’s company bolstering him. “Wanna meet him?”   
  


“Dude, don’t make me wait.”

Patrick craned his neck to find David watching him. Patrick raised his eyebrows and made a “come here?” motion with his head. David nodded, said something to Marcy, then headed across the yard. Patrick did not miss how various eyes and heads tracked his progress. 

“Can I hug him?” Josh muttered.

“Um...he’s not really a hugger unless he knows you well. Take your cue from him.”

“Got it.”

David stepped up on the deck where they were, smiling a little hesitantly. Patrick slipped an arm around his waist. “Josh, this is my husband, David Rose. David, this is my cousin, Josh Jarrow.”

Josh held out a hand. “Man, is it ever good to meet you. I’ve heard so much about you.”

“That’s a terrifying thought,” David said, shaking his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Patrick has talked about you a lot.”

“We were just debating how a nerd like my cousin here bagged such a looker for a husband.”

David’s eyebrows shot up. “Did he mention how flattery absolutely works on me?”

“He did not. I guess he must have some hidden appeal, huh?”

“Nope. I lost a bet.”

Josh threw back his head and laughed, great peals of it to the heavens. “Oh, Patrick, he’s gonna fit right in.” Patrick laughed along with him, feeling David relaxing under his arm. His arms unfolded from across his chest, one of them sliding around Patrick’s shoulders, his other hand resting in its usual spot on his hip.

“In defense of my handsome, wonderful husband, his appeal is far from hidden,” David said, smirking.

“Aww,” Patrick said. “See? Some people have  _ taste _ ,” he said, sticking out his tongue at Josh, who returned the gesture immediately.

“Oh my God, you’re both twelve,” David groaned.

“No, but seriously,” Josh said, reining it in. “This dork is just about my favorite person in the world, and seeing him happy like this means a lot to me.”

David nodded. “Well, he is definitely  _ my _ favorite person in the world, and I swore in front of a bunch of people to make him happy, so I’m glad to hear I’m doing my job.”

“You guys are gonna make me cry,” Patrick said, blinking hard.

“I wish you could have made it to the wedding,” David said.

“I was just saying that same thing to Patrick. Fucking jobs, man, am I right?”

“What is it that you do?”

“I’m an engineer. I specialize in electrical plant construction. I travel a lot, all over the world, supervising new plants being built.”

David glanced down at Patrick. “So, is your entire family made up of smart people? Or have I just not met the cousin who’s a failed mime and lives in a van down by the river?”

“Oh, that’s Arthur,” Josh said. “He’ll be here later. If he can get the van started.”

David’s jaw dropped, then he saw that Josh was giving him shit and he laughed. He glanced down at Patrick, and years of experience let Patrick see the clear  _ I like him _ signal in David’s eyes. He relaxed just that little bit more. “Well, I think Arthur and I will be fast friends, then. The underachievers.”

“If you’re an underachiever, I don’t know what hope the rest of us have. You own your own business, for crying out loud. I’d love to drive down and see it, by the way.”

“I’d love for you to come visit,” Patrick said. “We have a guest room, you can see the store. Oh, let me give you a card, you can go look at our Instagram. David curates it very artistically.” He fished for his wallet, then David touched his arm.

“I have one, honey,” he said, getting out his own wallet. He pulled out a card and gave Patrick a significant look. 

Patrick realized that it was the mock-up he’d shown David, to tell him about his name change decision. He reached out and took it, then met David’s eyes. “Perfect,” he said.

He handed the card to Josh.

“Great, that’s…” Josh’s eyes flicked over the text. It only took him a second to get the point; Josh was freakishly smart under that Yukon Cornelius exterior. He looked up. “Yeah?” he said.

Patrick nodded. “I’m filing the paperwork on Monday. That’s actually why I came up here this weekend, to tell my parents.”

“And they’re cool?”

“They are, indeed, cool.”

John reached out and wrapped Patrick up in another massive hug. “Damn man, but I always wanted this for you,” he whispered into his ear. “Thank God you found it.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Josh pulled back, then turned to David. “How about it?” he said, holding out his arms.

David sighed. “Sure, why not.” He accepted a Josh-hug with about as much grace and enthusiasm as Patrick could have wished for, for a hug from a near-stranger. Josh said something into David’s ear that Patrick couldn’t hear; David just nodded in response.

“So,” Josh said, pocketing the card. “You want me to do the spreading-around duties?”

“If you wouldn’t mind. I’d like to tell your folks myself, though.”

“Sure. Don’t give it another thought. By the time this clambake wraps up, they’ll all know how to address the Christmas cards.” He clapped Patrick’s shoulder. “Let’s swing back around and really catch up, huh?”

“Absolutely.” Josh went off through the crowd, acquiring an entourage of family members as he went. “That’s that, then,” Patrick murmured, drawing David closer to his side, his hand on his waist.

“That’s it? You don’t want to tell anyone else, apart from Joan and Stu?”

“The thing you need to know about Josh is...well, I didn’t tell him just because I’m closest to him. Josh is kind of the king of the family. He’s not the oldest, but he’s the one everyone sort of orbits. He’s the smartest, most capable, and also the kindest and most loving.”

“So Josh will present this news as you’d like to have it presented.”

“Exactly. If Josh seems approving, everyone else will follow his lead. And he will not hesitate to put anyone back in line who steps out of it.”

“Look at you, deploying this political strategy.”

“Choose your messenger carefully.”

David slung his arm around Patrick’s shoulders and kissed his forehead. “I like him. I approve of him visiting us.”

“Oh, you approve, do you? What a relief for me, that a family member of mine has made the list.”

“Watch it, Mr. Brewer, your spot on the list isn’t guaranteed, you know,” David said, his eyes twinkling.

Patrick looked steadily back. “That’s not my name,” he said, quietly.

David stuttered for a second, like his filmstrip jumped, then recovered. “Technically, it is. But not for long.”

Josh’s departure seemed to have sparked a bit of a tsunami of family members coming forward who’d clearly been giving Josh time with Patrick; they were quickly swept away in a new wave of introductions and hugs and marriage congratulations. Patrick kept a weather eye on Josh; every time he saw him, he was talking to a different family member, a broad, gregarious smile on his face, and Patrick knew he was in good hands.

* * *

PATRICK: I should say right now that telling people first is only how I went about it. Some of you may prefer to just do the official steps and then tell people after the fact.

DAVID: [offscreen] Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission.

P: Not that you’d know anything about THAT. [he is giving David, off-camera, a Look]

D: [face pops into view, looking into the camera, XCU] I knew he’d like the new paint color for the bedroom but if I’d told him about it beforehand it would have become a whole thing with swatches and price comparisons and I just didn’t want to deal with it, okay?

P: Is it too much to ask to be consulted about what color I’ll be waking up to for the foreseeable future?

D: Do you or do you not like the color?

P: [disgruntled] I do. You knew I would.

D: Exactly. Proceed. [disappears, with a hand flourish]

P: At this point I’m not sure I can recommend marriage with 100% enthusiasm, viewers.

D: [off-camera, sounding further away] Oh, you love it!

P: ANYWAY. I still hadn’t told our friends in town, except Stevie, but it was time to start the paperwork and I knew I could kill two birds with one stone.

* * *

For once, Patrick was glad to find Ronnie alone in Town Hall.

She looked up, registered his presence with pursed lips, and gave him a curt nod. “Brewer,” she said, going back to whatever she was doing.

He took a seat in the chair by her desk. “Got a minute?”

“I might.”

“I’m filing some paperwork that needs to be notarized.”

She held out her hand. “More plans for world domination?” She looked down at the paperwork he handed her. Her expression didn’t change, but Patrick thought he detected a little softening around the mouth. Or it might have been his wishful thinking. “I heard you might be doing this,” she said.

“Heard where?”

“Just around. In the wind.” Ronnie would die before she’d admit that she watched his YouTube channel, which he knew she did.

“That wind. Such a gossip.”

Ronnie set down the form and leaned back in her chair, watching him with a flat gaze. Patrick braced himself for some kind of dressing-down or scolding, although he couldn’t imagine what he’d done to deserve it  _ this _ time.

“Do you know why I’m nice to him but not to you?” she said.

That...wasn’t what he’d been expecting. “Are you going to finally tell me?”

“Because he needs it and you don’t.”

This statement landed just as hard as she’d clearly meant it to. Patrick swallowed, but said nothing. He got the feeling she wasn’t done.

“You come from bedrock, don’t you? Loving, steady family, consistency, security...safety. He didn’t have that.”

Patrick nodded. “I know.”

“Not that you haven’t had your...unsteady times,” she said, diplomatically. They’d never had a conversation about it, but Ronnie was frighteningly astute and he wouldn’t be surprised if she somehow knew most of his own stumbles on the path that had led him here.

“I have, yeah. It doesn’t feel quite the same, though. When I hear him talk about...well. Those aren’t my stories to tell.”

“This isn’t the Agony Olympics, it’s not a competition. Everyone’s got their own struggles. But he had to go through a lot of his without that foundational sense of security. He’s really never felt safe in his life.” She cocked her head. “Until now. I guess”

“God, I hope so.” He found himself choking up. “I just want that for him. I want to give that to him, if I can.”

She picked up the forms and looked at them. “You know, this is something a lot of men would never even conceive of doing. There’s a lot of old-school dynastic male-ego bullshit in last names. The integrity of the family line, or whatever.”

“I don’t care about any of that.”

“Clearly.” She pointed at him. “You’re still a self-righteous tightass.”

He tucked his lips between his teeth to avoid smiling. “Noted.”

“But this…” She tapped the form. “This is a thing. That you are doing. Which I...acknowledge.”

He couldn’t resist. “Did that hurt? Do you need an ice pack?” 

“If you were as smart as you think you are, you’d be saving your commentary for  _ after _ I’ve signed this,” she said, but a smirk was fighting with her dour expression. 

“Does this mean you...approve? Of something I’m doing?”

“Do you need my approval?”

“No.”

“Tough, you’re getting it.” She got out her notary stamp, signed and affixed it to the form. “There you go, Mr. Rose.”

Patrick’s head snapped up. It was the first time anyone had called him that. Ronnie was watching him, the barest hint of a smile on her lips. He grinned, feeling the name settle on his shoulders. It felt like it belonged there. It felt like it was  _ his. _ His eyes welled up and he quickly harrumphed and took the forms from her. “Thanks.”

She gave him a brief nod. “Can I assume that you, uh...want this to get around?”

“Whaaaat makes you say that?” he said, carefully.

“Because you could have gotten that notarized when you took it to the office in Elm Valley. Only reason to come in here and have me do it is so the word will get out.” She shook her head. “Normally I’d object to being your messenger but this one will be fun.” 

* * *

“So...will you get a new birth certificate?” David said, looking at the paperwork Patrick had laid out on the table.

“No, because I’m not actually changing my last name. I’m assuming my spouse’s last name. Which is...different.”

“How is that different?”

“This isn’t erasing my original last name. If I legally changed it, it would. They make it way easier to assume your spouse’s last name than to legally change your own last name, probably because a lot of people do it. And it’s free. I just have to take this stuff and a copy of our marriage certificate to the service center in Elm Valley and they’ll mail me my updated driver’s license and health card and all that stuff in like six weeks.”

“Huh.” He picked up Patrick’s driver’s license. “This picture makes you look like a serial killer. One of the ones where everyone would say ‘Oh, he was so quiet, such a good neighbor. Little bit odd, though.’”

“Everyone looks like a serial killer in their driver’s license photo.”

“Is your middle name after anyone?”

“Yeah, my mom’s father.”

“His name was Christopher?”

“Yes?”

“I just think of that as a more modern name.”

“Is it?”

“Did she have an opinion about losing that?”

“Just that she was glad I was keeping Brewer in some form.”

David tapped the edge of Patrick’s driver’s license on the table. “I am, too,” he said, quietly. Patrick opened his mouth to speak but David held up a hand. “No, this isn’t still the ‘I’m-stealing-parts-of-you’ thing. It’s just that...well…” He looked at him. “Patrick Brewer is who I fell in love with.”

Patrick melted a little. “Patrick Rose is who  _ I _ fell in love with.” David’s face went slack. “I love who I am now, David. I love who I’ve become with you in my life.”

David blinked. “Say it again,” he whispered.

He knew exactly what David was referring to. “Patrick Rose.”

He saw David’s throat work. “Hearing you say it, I just...” He turned his face away. Patrick watched his gorgeous profile and saw his eyes well up. “I’m…” He didn’t continue.

“What, babe?”

“I just...sometimes I’m a little scared of how much I love you. Like, I think you can’t possibly love me back the same way. It’s impossible, it’s just me being Too Much, not being able to love my husband a normal amount and going overboard with it. I’m not used to having things reciprocated. I’m used to finding out I’m just a side character in the lives of people who are top-billed in mine.” He sighed. “Then you do or say something like this, or like the other thousand things you do every day, and I have to deal with the fact that you really fucking do, and I really get to believe it, and have it, and sometimes I have to go lie down for a minute.” Patrick just stared at him, speechless. If this were a perfect world, he’d have been able to respond with some sufficiently profound and heartfelt statement that would mean David would never again have any insecurities about his feelings for him, but before he could even make the attempt, David flapped a hand and stood up. “Okay, enough Oprah moments. I’m late to pick up Stevie. I’ll see you later.” He kissed Patrick’s forehead and was gone in a cloud of sandalwood and faux-nonchalance.

Patrick blinked and picked up his driver’s license where David had dropped it on the table.

* * *

PATRICK: There are a few ways to change your name. If, like me, you’re assuming your spouse’s name, it’s a pretty streamlined process. They’ve made it easy because a lot of people do this.

DAVID: [off-camera] For once, heteronormativity makes itself useful. 

P: If you’re not doing that but want your last name legally changed, there’s a whole thing with fees and public disclosures to make sure you aren’t on the lam or something. But you get an updated birth certificate. Your local provincial or state or county website should have all the details you need.

[David appears and comes to join Patrick, leaning by his side against the store’s front desk. he crosses his arms over his chest and nudges him] 

D: Maybe I could give myself a middle name. My parents kinda forgot to do that.

P: I know. You want one?   
  


D: [shrugs] Brewer, maybe.

P: [stares] You want to share a middle name AND a last name with me?

D: Seems fair, doesn’t it? We didn’t want to hyphenate. This way we’d both have both names, in a way.

P: And you’re choosing this moment, while I’m shooting this video, to tell me you want to do this? It’s like you  _ want _ me to start crying on camera.

D:  _ You  _ sprung it on me during a livestream! At least you can edit this one!

  
  


P: The good news is that middle names aren’t legal. You can just use whatever name you want. But you can have it legally added if you like.

D: What if I do like?

P: [smiling] Then lucky for you, you know someone who can do the paperwork for you.

D: I like being married to you.

P: [leans in and kisses him] I like it, too.

* * *

The day Patrick’s updated documents arrived, David got home first. Patrick had stayed at the store to finish some financial stuff (David’s eyes had glazed over a bit when he listened to the explanation), saying he’d walk home, it was a nice night.

David was going through the mail when he saw the thick envelope from the province and knew immediately what it was. He was tempted to open it - he and Patrick had long established mutual mail-opening permissions - but he decided to leave it. He dealt with the rest of the junk, put a few bills aside and saved a catalog for later perusal, then placed the envelope carefully in the middle of the kitchen table.

He was pondering ordering a cute fireplace screen from the Brookstone catalog when the front door opened. “Hi, honey!” he called.

He heard Patrick taking off his shoes and his keys jangling into the dish on the hall table. “Hey,” Patrick said, coming into the main room. 

“Something came for you,” David said, smiling.

“Yeah?” He spotted the envelope on the table. “Oh! My stuff! My new stuff!” He picked up the envelope and joined David on the couch.

David put the catalog aside and tucked close to his side. “Let’s see the new Patrick,” he said, pressing a kiss to his shoulder.

Patrick tore the envelope open. His updated cards spilled out; he went for the driver’s license. They both looked down at his same photo, his same vital stats and address, under his new name. “ROSE, PATRICK B.”

They sat quietly for a moment, absorbing it. “It’s real,” David said.

“Yeah.” 

“You’d think they’d let you take a new picture to go with your new name.”

“I’ll get a new one next time I renew.”

“Still. Seems appropriate. New name, new picture, a fresh start.”

Patrick got out his wallet, took out the old license and replaced it with his new one. “You know, I’ve been using the name for awhile. I’ve gotten used to signing it. But this just makes it seem official.”

“And we know how you like things to be official.”

“Cross the t’s and dot the i’s.”

“Oh, get that thing out again, we’ve got to take a picture and send it to everyone!”

Patrick laughed, and hauled out his wallet again.

* * *

A month after his new documents arrived, Patrick finally got the chance to take his new name and his new business cards out for a spin at a weekend conference in Hamilton for small business owners. He always met an interesting mix of people at these things, and this conference was no different. He arrived the first morning to his assigned breakfast table, the last one to do so thanks to a panicked morning call from David about a “weird noise” coming from the water heater. His tablemates were all women except for one pompous-looking guy who, by his clothing, was in some flavor of golf-related business. He practically launched himself at Patrick..

“Glad to see another fella,” Golf Guy said, gruffly. 

“Why?” Patrick asked. One of the women already seated gave a snort. 

“Um...well...you know. Feeling outnumbered.” 

“By small business owners? Isn’t that all of us?” The golf pro gave an uncertain half-laugh, knocked for a loop at Patrick’s refusal to return his volley for the Straight-Guy Buddy-Up Against Girls. “Barry Goldfarb,” Golf Guy said, extending a hand, resorting to the industry standard. “I own a driving range.”

Patrick shook it, for politeness’ sake. “Patrick Rose. Nice to meet you,” he said, flatly. He caught the eye of one of the other attendees; she gave him a subtle eye roll and he tossed a quick wink back at her.

The women at the table introduced themselves. Next to him were Lisa and Willow, a married couple who owned a microbrewery. On their other side were Anna and Sophie, sisters who ran a quilt store, and on Barry’s other side was Talitha, who owned a bookstore.

“So what’s your business?” Barry asked him.

“We own a store that sells consignment items made by our local artisans. Quite a variety, actually. Some food and alcohol, crafts and decorative items, but we sort of specialize in bath and body products.”

“That sounds charming! I’d love to visit!” said Talitha.

“Please do.” He pulled out his card case. “Let me give you all my card. They told me to bring extras since I’m one of the speakers this afternoon.” He handed around his personal business cards; these had his name more prominent, whereas the ones they used for the store had the business name featured. 

“Rose Apothecary,” said Sophie. “What a tasteful name.”

“Named it after yourself, I see,” Barry said, chuckling.

“Not exactly,” Patrick began.

“Hey, I’m a middle initial B, too, you don’t see a lot of those!” he went on. “Mine’s for Brian, what’s yours?”

“Brewer.”

“Huh. Family name?”

Patrick tried and failed to suppress the grin that spread across his face. This was it. The moment he’d been waiting for. He hadn’t expected he’d get it so soon.

“It’s my maiden name.”

Willow grinned; Emma snorted, mid-coffee-sip. Barry Goldfarb looked a little face-slapped. “But...huh? That’s not...huh?”

“I know, the term is so antiquated and heteronormative, but unfortunately there isn’t a male equivalent.” He smiled placidly. “Rose is my married name. The store is named after my husband, he started the business.” Out of the corner of his eye, Patrick saw Willow and Lisa giving each other The Glance. He’d shared The Glance with David on more than one occasion. David called it the Side-Eye of Queer Solidarity.

“Huh,” Barry said. “That’s, uh...different. He didn’t want to take your name, then?”

“We flipped a coin for it.”

Willow and Lisa guffawed in stereo. Talitha was biting back a laugh. Barry didn’t seem to know why they were so amused. “Well, uh...I’ll uh...I’m looking forward to your talk later, uh...Patrick, was it? Sure. I’m going to, uh...get some coffee. Not much of a breakfast eater. You all have a good morning.” He got up, tossed a lame wave at them with a watery smile, and beat a hasty retreat.

“Byeeeeee,” Emma sing-songed.

“Jeez, good riddance,” Willow said. “What a tool.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Mr. Rose, but I love watching douchey straight guys deflate when they think they’ve found a Boring White Dude compatriot and find out they’re wrong,” Talitha said to Patrick.

“It’s Patrick, please. And deflating them is a real pleasure.” He frowned. “That sounded...bad.”

Everyone laughed. “So, I have to ask,” Lisa said. “Did you really flip for it?”

“No, of course not,” Patrick said. “It was my idea to change my name, and I asked to take his. It’s the name of our business, and of course there was personal significance.”

“What’s your husband’s name?”

“David. He’s at home minding our store.” He turned to Willow and Lisa. “Tell me about your brewery, I’m a little surprised I haven’t heard about it. I try to keep informed about LGBTQ-owned businesses in the area.”

“Well, we’re up by Sudbury, so this is a bit of a trek for us.”

“We’re a queer-owned business, too,” Emma said. “Well, half and half. My sister is straight but I’m pan.”

“So is my husband!” Patrick said. He noted Willow’s frown. “Don’t worry, he gives me blanket outing permission for situations like this. He’s all about pan visibility.”

Talitha held up a tentative hand. “Four for four queer-owned businesses here, guys.” She didn’t elaborate, but beamed a wide smile.

Willow laughed. “Are you telling me that Barry McStraightGuy left before he found out he was surrounded? That was a missed opportunity.”

They all laughed, the mood at the breakfast table lightening. Conversation continued over eggs and pancakes as sufficient coffee was consumed. “So how did you meet your husband?” Talitha finally asked.

“He was starting his store, and I offered to help him with the startup process. Eventually I became his business partner.”

“And you fell in love,” Sophie said, looking a little starry-eyed about it.

“Yep. We got married...not quite two years ago.” He glanced at Talitha, who was peering at him with a frown, like she was trying to remember something. “What?”

“You look really familiar.” Her eyes widened. “Wait a minute...your husband’s name is David?  _ The Mysterious David? _ ”

Patrick, who had figured out where she was going with this a few seconds ago, nodded. “He’s not so mysterious anymore, but yes.”

“You’re Patrick! I mean, you’re ‘How, Patrick?’”

“Yes, that’s me.”

The others were looking at each other, blank expressions on their faces. “He has a YouTube channel, he’s internet-famous! It’s like a how-to adulting channel, and throughout the whole thing he kept mentioning this guy David, who was his business partner and then his boyfriend and nobody ever saw David so he was…”

“The Mysterious David?” Willow said, still looking a little confused.

“Yes! I used to watch it sometimes but I haven't in awhile. I should have recognized you, I feel dumb. But it’s a context thing.”

“Don’t apologize, it’s not like I came here for that,” he said.

The others were all pulling out their phones. “And we’re gonna bookmark that channel right now,” Lisa said.

“Oh God,” Patrick said, chuckling. His watch buzzed with a text notification, which also woke up his tablet, lying on the table by his coffee cup.

“Oh, is that him?” Lisa said, nodding at the tablet. The background photo was of him and David, one of his favorite photos of them. David was grinning at Stevie’s camera in a way he didn’t often do, one arm slung around Patrick’s shoulders; Patrick had his nose tucked against David’s cheek, eyes closed and mouth curved in a contented smile.

“Yep.”

“Wow, he’s gorgeous.”

“Yes, he is. And the best thing that ever happened to me,” he said, surprising himself. He wasn’t one to hold forth about his relationship to near-strangers, but he was feeling a little emotional, not to mention safe here among members of the community he was still learning how to claim as his own. Talking about what David meant to him was one way he could do that.

“Was it complicated to change your name?” Willow asked.

“Not really.” Patrick smiled at what he hoped would be new friends. “Let me tell you how.”

* * *

“So, is this revenge for making you wear a blindfold that one time, because I gotta say, I’m not a fan.”

Patrick led him around the front of the store. “Well, if it is, we’re even now. At least I’m not showing you something you’ve already seen.” He positioned David in front of the store. “Okay, you can take it off.”

David took off his blindfold and looked up, blinking. “Okay, this is one of your little jokes, right? Because I have definitely already seen our store.”

“Take a closer look.”

“I’m looking! I don’t see wha…” He went silent, his mouth falling open, and Patrick knew he’d seen it.

They’d added painted signage to the front doors of the store last fall. The store hours were on the left, and the Open/Closed sign hung beneath. The right door was painted with the store’s name and logo.

Until last night, when Patrick had hired their original sign painter to come and make an addition beneath the store name.

**FAMILY-OWNED AND OPERATED**

David exhaled, clasping his hands together underneath his chin. “Honey,” he said.

“I hope it doesn’t ruin the aesthetic.”

David turned to him and grasped his shoulders. “Are you kidding? It’s perfect.” He hugged Patrick tightly, pressing a kiss to his temple. He turned to look at it again, keeping his arm tight around Patrick’s shoulders. “Hmm,” he said, smiling.

“What?”

“You know, when I designed the logo it didn’t even occur to me.”

“What didn’t?”

“I drew it with two roses.”

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> The paperwork Patrick needed for his name change doesn't actually need to be notarized but I wanted him to talk to Ronnie, so. Handwave, handwave.


End file.
